Chad's Story
by Del3195
Summary: Chad Dylan Cooper. Have you ever wondered why Chad acts the way he does? What if it wasn't his fault? If something in his past causes him to not want to let people in? What if Chad wants to be the person that he left behind when he was just a little kid?
1. The Beginning

**Gah. I needed to write. But, since I'm in major writers block for all my other stories… I'm going to make this little one-shot that could eventually turn into something bigger if I get a lot of people that like it! I've never even tried a Sonny with a Chance fanfic, but the ones that I've read I've liked, so I'm going to try and do it! Just go ahead and let me know if I should stick to Max Ride and Twilight, it wouldn't hurt my feelings. I've never really read a story that goes deep into the past of… you guessed it… CDC! I mean… why is he like that? Did something happen to him in the past? Well… here is a little thought on what I think happened when he was little.**

Chad/Dylan's POV

_Bang!_

My world shattered at that sound. Even though I was eight and didn't know what was going on, I had watched enough cowboy movies with my father to know what that noise was. Tears welled up in my eyes as the room around me started to blur. Screaming penetrated the buzzing that I hadn't noticed filling my ears. That scream was recognizable to me as my mothers, and a tear cascaded down my cheek.

I resisted the urge to climb out of this "safe hole", as my father used to call it. But, they, my parents, had made it quite clear that I was to only get out of the hole if they told me that it was okay too.

Even though I was scared and helpless, only being nine years old, I tried to be brave, for my parents if not for anything else.

Another scream was heard and I cradled my knees to my chest and rested my chin on my thighs, holding back a scream of my own. I remembered back to the words that my father had told me mere hours ago. "_Be strong, Dylan. Do it for me. Do it for your _mother!"

I hadn't understood him then, and I still don't understand what is happening, or why people were after my parents. Of course they were pretty famous, with my dad being a producer and a script writer, and my mom being a model and a singer. They were the strong ones. Holding me when I was scared of monsters in my closet. They were the strong ones, always facing the media without being afraid of what the tabloids were saying about them.

I couldn't do this. I just couldn't mentally do this. Who _knew_ what was going on down there?

Tears fell rapidly from my cheeks and I held in the loud sobs that were threatening to burst out of my mouth at any second. Biting my cheek, I looked around, wanting to distract myself from the fact that there hadn't been any noise downstairs for a while.

The wallpaper was decorated with small, elaborate squares and I started to count them.

Time went slowly.

_56… 57…_

_Bang! Bang Bang!!_

I nearly shouted in surprise at the sudden sound that came bursting through the air. Forgetting the tiles, I made my way over to the one-way mirror that was positioned on the floor a couple feet away from me. Breathing slowly, I closed my eyes and put my head over the mirror, looking down.

Without breathing, I opened my eyes slowly and saw something that made my heart literally stop. My dad was lying on the floor. Bleeding.

There was a strong, burly looking man standing over him with a gun. Thinking the worst, tears fell quickly off of my nose, clouding my vision. I could barely see it when my dad made the slightest movement.

Forgetting that he was gravely injured, my mindset took a completely different direction and the gears turned extremely fast, trying to make me memorize every feature of the man's face as he looked towards the ceiling in frustration.

Finally ready to hear what they were saying, I pressed the little red button that let noise flow through the vent a couple feet away.

"Where is the brat! He's who I came for! If you don't tell me where he is I swear…" he let off, pointing the gun between my father's eyes.

"I told you," I barely made out my father saying, "I'm not going to give him up to you. This stupid rivalry is nothing! Nothing! Dylan did nothing!"

"Nothing!" The other man roared. "_Nothing! __HOW _could you even say that he did _nothing!_ He ruined the love between Clara and I! He was _born! _So she stayed with _you! _It's _all his fault!_ If she wouldn't have had _Dylan," _he spit out my name in a voice of such detestation that I had to scurry back from him, thinking that he was going to harm me, even though he had no idea I was up here.

"Leave him _alone, _Sam, _please!" _I heard my mother plead, getting close enough to my father that I could see her, all bruised up and bleeding.

"_NO!_ After all that _pain! _Dylan didn't want me as a _father! _You said that he didn't _like me enough!_ And after _consideration, _you took a _paternity _test! That _damn _kid had to be _his! _I _loved you! _I gave you _everything you wanted! _But _no! _You had to go back to Mr. _Hollywood _here, and give up everything for _that kid!__" _He stopped screaming and cocked the gun.

"_This _is where it ends for _him.__" _The last thing I heard was my mother crying into my father's shoulder. Before I pulled away, I saw the man kick my mother out of the way so that she wouldn't put herself in between him and my father. I reached shakily over to the button and clicked it, not wanting to hear the full effect of the gunshot as it took the last breath from my father.

What was _wrong _with me? I hadn't done anything _wrong._

Yet it was _all my __fault._

My dad was dead because of _me. _Because I was _born._

**CDCCDCCDCCDCCDCCDCCDCCDCCDCCDCCDCCDCCDCCDCCDCCDCCDCCDCCDCCDCCDCCDCCDCCDCCDCCDCCDC**

After what seemed like a lifetime, I calmed myself down enough to get out of the fetal position that I had put myself in for the past 5 hours. Knowing that I would probably find the worst, I crawled back over to the one-way mirror.

Closing my eyes, I leaned over it like I had done before and slowly opened my eyes after I was positioned above it.

I gasped quickly.

Nothing was there. There was no bloodstain, no gunman, no father, and certainly no mother. The floor was squeaky clean and there was no sign that there had been a murder and a beating there only hours before.

Quickly noticing that there was absolutely nothing down there, I wanted to run down and see if it had all been a joke. Some sort of project that my father had brought home so that he could show the actors that he was working with. I chuckled, thinking in my mind that it had been all an act. There was no doubt in my mind that that had been what had happened. I laughed it off, knowing that I was overreacting.

My dad probably didn't want me to annoy him so he told me to go up in the safe room and stay there until he came up after he was done. Even though I started to think that it had been all a joke, there was something that was nagging me, and that was why I hadn't ever seen the "hitman" before. When my dad brought his work home, he usually used the same guy, Lukas Brawtling.

Pulling out the phone that my parents handed me before shoving me up in this room, I dialed my mother's number and let it ring.

And ring.

And ring.

Until finally, after it had rung ten times, a person picked up, but I could tell immediately that it wasn't my mother, seeing as they were breathing hard, and it definitely wasn't a female voice.

"Who is this?" I recognized the rough voice as the person from earlier and my heart stopped in my throat.

"My name is Dylan… can you tell me where my mom is?" I asked innocently, still thinking that the man I was talking to was a new actor that my dad had been working with.

"She's sitting here unconscious. I raped her and beat her after I killed your biological father with three gunshots to the head." He said calmly, as if it was something that he did everyday.

"Oh, are you from my father's new movie that he's directing?" I questioned, trying to remain as calm as I could, keeping a tight hold on the small hope that he was only involved in the movie, and not involved in the horrific activities I had imagined earlier.

"Now listen, brat, your father is dead, and your mother is out cold. Now, I'm going to leave for now and call it a day, but you can be damn sure that I'll be back. Maybe not this week, maybe not even this year, but I'm going to be back and get revenge on you, I promise." He stopped, his voice reaching near hysteria.

My heart had officially stopped by this time, and I just hung up, glad that the phone that I had called from had a disposable number. I placed it on the floor and took the chair from in the corner and smashed it, not wasting anytime to make sure that I had kept anything intact.

My brain started to shoot out rapid fire directions, involving going down and finding my mother and saving her. That idea stayed in my mind and I waited only about a half an hour to make sure that that Sam guy was actually gone.

I shot down the small stairs that led up to the safe room and started to survey every room in the whole house, stopping when I came to the kitchen. I saw my mother on the floor surrounded in a puddle of blood. It didn't look like she was breathing until I got extremely close.

Grabbing the kitchen phone, I felt for my mother's pulse while dialing 911.

"_Hello?" _I heard a voice from the other side crackle through the bad reception.

"Hi, my name is Dylan Fisher, and my dad was just m-murdered, and my m-mom is b-barely breathing. P-please come quickly." I stuttered, barely recognizing the words flowing through my mouth.

"_Ok, Mr. Fisher, the ambulance is on their way. May I ask where you live and how old you are?" _The lady asked, seemingly sympathetic.

I gave her my address and age, and she asked me to stay on the line, probably making sure that I didn't go into shock. I had to explain everything about what had happened to her, so she would be able to help me the most.

Everything was a blur after that. The ambulance arrived, took my mom away on a stretcher, and a whole bunch of police arrived to start asking me questions. Too tired to do anything, I just collapsed, not knowing how to handle this much stress.

**CDCCDCCDCCDCCDCCDCCDCCDCCDCCDCCDCCDCCDCCDCCDCCDCCDCCDCCDCCDCCDCCDCCDCCDCCDCCDC**

"Dyllykins?" I heard my mom's weak voice ask.

"Yeah mom?" I asked automatically, hoping that it wasn't a dream and that she was okay.

"We need to go." She stated quickly.

Sitting up, I noticed that I was sitting in the backseat of her limo. She was covered in cuts and bruises and the bags underneath her eyes were so noticeable that it looked like she had black eyes. "We're leaving our house, and I'm going to change everything about myself." She stated just as quickly.

"You are no longer Dylan." She continued. "You can never remember what happened last night." She urged. "You're name is Chad now. Chad Dylan Cooper."

"Cooper? Isn't that Auntie Sarah's last name?" I questioned.

"Yes, she's letting us use it for now." My mom said blankly.

"What's going on mom?" I asked, finally showing how scared I really was.

"There's a man that's after you, Dylly, and we have to get away from him, because he will in fact _kill _you. I'm not going to sugarcoat it and say that he'll do something bad to you. He will _kill you _without even blinking an eye." She looked me straight in the eye, and I finally noticed how important it was that I stay away from this man.

"Okay mom."

"Now, we're going to have to dye your beautiful black hair, and get you some colored contacts." She said, looking me over.

"But why?" I asked, immediately raising my hand to protect my ink black hair and green eyes. "Can't I just get a wig?" I pleaded.

My mom looked me in the eyes but her gaze made it up to my hair. "Yes, for now." She sighed.

That was one of the many changes that I went through. I was forced to change my eyes to an icy blue, my wig was a light blond color, and my wardrobe was change from torn, overlarge shirts to expensive designers and nice pants. There was nothing about me that was the same, except for the basic features.

We moved into a big mansion and used the money from my dad's insurance to completely erase the Fisher's from everybody's memory. My mom, to stay out of the spotlight and become recognized, started to work in the movie editing and the script writings, seeing as there was nothing to get her pictures out there if she was a lowly editor or screenwriter.

I became involved in acting, hoping to get my "name" Chad Dylan Cooper, out there, in order for Dylan Fisher to become a thing of the past.

Even though I was living a new life, the memory of my father still haunts me and so does the thought that the mysterious Sam guy was still out there and sought to kill me.

Shortly after we got settled into our new home, only about two months after the incident, my mother found out that she was pregnant. There was only one person that she could be pregnant from, and she immediately went insane. My father had had a vasectomy after I was born.

Helping her live through the pregnancy was one of the worst experiences of my life. I would come in, only to see her with a knife to her arms, blood on the floor. It got so bad in the fifth month of her pregnancy that she was rushed to the hospital after stabbing her stomach.

To keep her out of the mental ward, I claimed that we had had a knife rack and she had tripped. She lost the baby.

After killing the baby, however sick it may sound, she began to cheer up slightly, and became the mother that I knew and loved, though still slightly depressed.

The young, caring, free, smiley Dylan was transformed into the cold, heartless, and distant Chad Dylan Cooper. But, whenever I was around someone that I cared for the most, I would turn into just Chad. The caring, selfless, and shy person that I wished I could be all the time, if it weren't for Hollywood trying to portray me as the "bad boy."

As the memory of my father started coming back bit by bit while I was acting, I learned to surpress Chad, and only care for my mom and I.

I never wanted to let someone in ever again.

That is, until one perky brunette came along and changed the way I look at things.

**Holy moly people! Hit or miss? I need to know if people want me to continue, so if I get at least 4 people who want me to continue, then I will :P. Anyway… this story kinda lets me get out my sad side, because most of my other stories are happier. Again… this is my first SWAC fanfic, and plllleeeaassee don't tell me how OOC he is, because he is kind of different in this fic than he probably is meant to be in real life. I might make this a chap fic. Don't know anymore.**

**~Del3195**


	2. Hurting

**Chad' POV**

"Fine." I heard her yell. I smiled.

"Fine." I repeated, knowing what she was going to say next.

"Good." She said, confirming my suspicions.

"Good." I finalized our conversations as I started to walk away from her and back to my dressing room. I could almost hear her smirking, thinking that she had won. We did that almost everyday, and it was something that I could actually look forward too.

It's been almost ten years since my father was murdered, and the anniversary of his death is next week. The only person that I can smile around at this time of year is my mother, and of course, the bubbly, always sunshiny, Sonny Monroe. She had bounded into my life eight months, and 23 days ago, wearing a fat suit and a wig.

I locked my dressing room door, made sure that the block on my vent was in place, and closed the shades on my window.

Grabbing my hair, I started to tug on it like I had a bad migraine, before I felt the wig come straight off. My longish black hair, about the same length of the blonde wig, fell down and I smiled into the mirror. I popped out my contact lenses, and my green eyes twinkled from behind my hair.

I had two hours before I had to do absolutely anything, and I never wanted to have my fake identity on for long, seeing as I felt like I was hiding my true self.

Many people think that I am conceited, and that is the reason why I don't want anyone touching my hair, but if they knew that I didn't want them to touch my hair because I have fake hair, then I would never live down the poparazzi.

I started to think about everything that I have accomplished since my father had died, and after I got through a very long list, I started to think about all of the close friends that I had made, and everyone that I had lost because of my cold attitude. The losses were huge, compared to the made friends, and, it made me cringe.

I was so cold to absolutely everyone that I met, because of something that happened ten years ago, and it hurt my soul, knowing that I was going to continue to be like this until the man that killed my father was caught and not a constant fear in my hectic life.

My head tilted to the side and I dozed off, thinking about that night…

_Bang Bang Bang!_

I jolted out of my dressing rooms' couch, scared out of my wits, immediately curling up into the fetal position, my head cringing away from the noise.

Tears formed in my eyes and I was about to say something, but I heard the nasaly voice of my co partner, Portlyn. "Chad, we're filming in 30 minutes, you have to come in for make-up and costume!" She said, loudly.

If there was only one thing that Portlyn did that was good for me was that she always knew my schedule and where I had to be, since I was constantly late.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming," I replied, knowing that if I didn't answer, she would try to break open my door.

"I'll tell them that you have the lines memorized and that you'll be there in 5 minutes, is that alright?" She asked sincerely, trying not to get on my bad side today. She knew that this week was my bad week out of the year, especially since she has had to endure me through it for the past nine years that I have been working with her.

"Yeah, that's great Portlyn," I muttered, giving her enough praise so that she would go away.

I looked down at the picture of my mom that sat on my dresser, and I sighed, she was still in a slight depression, and even though I have been told many times that it's not my fault, I still feel the pang of guilt whenever I see how dull her eyes have gotten, or when I see her all skin and bones. If only there was something that I could do to get her smile back.

I sighed and expertly put on my wig, made a few adjustments, and then put in my contact lenses. I looked into the mirror and I saw a stranger looking back, the fake identity that I put up for absolutely everyone in the media.

It was like a lifelong character that I would have to portray, and it was something that I wasn't looking forward to spending the rest of my life like this.

Sighing, I opened my door with my script in my other hand, and started to head off for a tough day at work. But, as luck would have it, I ran into the one girl that could make me smile a real, genuine smile.

"Um…" She muttered, looking down at the floor, as if she were studying it.

"Sonny? What are you doing over here in MacKenzie Falls?" I asked, cocking an eyebrow, putting my weight on my left foot, and crossing my arms around my waist.

"You dropped a piece of paper when we were fighting earlier, and I had to shoot so I wasn't able to give it back to you, so my show just finished shooting, and I thought that I would bring it over here, because maybe it was something important, you know?" I heard her ramble on, a slight pink creeping up into her cheeks.

I looked at the paper in her hands and gasped. It was the picture of my dad that I kept in my pocket at all times, and it was my good luck charm. But the thing that made my heart stop was that I was in the picture as a little kid, holding up a trophy that I had just gotten. And on that trophy in big bold letters was my name, I mean, my old name. I was smiling, and my green eyes and black hair matched my dad's perfectly.

"I didn't open it, because it seemed really fragile, so I brought it right back so that I wouldn't damage it." She said, her tone balancing on being frightened, seeing as I had a death glare planted upon my face once I realized what it was that she picked up.

I snapped, even though I didn't really mean to.

"How dare you touch this! You probably ruined it! I can't believe this. Sonny, how could you be so dimwitted, careless, and stupid!" I yelled, feeling all of the pain from my past creep up on me.

I could see tears forming in her eyes, and I immediately felt regret at what I had done.

I grabbed the picture from her hands and shoved it neatly into my pocket, my arms curled around my waist and I could see her running away from me.

"I didn't mean to, Chad." I heard her whisper softly as she headed her way back to her own set.

I shook off the regret and guilt that was penetrating my impenetrable emotional defense and made my way to my set, thanking the lord that today was the day that we were shooting a scene where I got to yell at my costars.

* * *

I was done shooting for the day when I decided to make my way down to the cafeteria, just to get something so that I could cool down.

Today was evidently some of the best acting that I have ever done according to my director and every single one of my cast mates.

I grabbed some fro-yo from the machine and I saw Sonny sitting alone at the So Random! table, with none of her castmates surrounding her.

Making my way over to apologize for what had happened earlier, I realized that she had been crying. There were some blotches on her cheeks, and there was no bright smile playing across her face. It made her face look dark and moody instead of the normal bright and peppy look she had planted on her face every day.

My face twisted and my throat clenched when I realized that it was probably all my fault that I had made her like this. She picked up her fork slowly and played with her unedable food before she dropped it and looked down at her shoes. I saw that she was murmering to herself and before I knew it, one single tear slid down her face.

Before it could drop off of her face, I made my way over to where she was sitting and I took my finger and wiped it softly across her soft, smooth cheek.

She froze, tensing all of her muscles before she turned her head up and her eyes met mine. A bright pink flashed across her face as she brought her arm up to wipe all other traces of the tear from her face, leaving a damp spot on her bright yellow sweater. "I just got something in my eyes Chad." She looked directly into my eyes, penetrating my defenses, letting me see right through her lie.

I chuckled, and shrugged before I started to walk away, eating my chocolate fro-yo.

"What was so important about that piece of paper anyway, Chad? It looked like a photograph." She said quietly enough for me to hear. I felt my hands starting to clench up and before I could do something I regret, like exploding on her for the second time in a day, I softened my eyes and turned around to face her.

"It was nothing." I smiled a real smile, hoping that she would just drop it.

"Of course Chad, I believe you." I heard the sincerity in her voice, but I could also hear how she doubted how the picture was nothing. "I'll see you later?" She said even quiter, seeing as she was afraid that I was going to do something to her.

"Yeah, later." I left the cafeteria and threw away the fro-yo that I was holding. I tore through everyone in my way and made my way through to my dressing room and shut it harshly, locking it and throwing my wig onto the ground. I took out the contacts as fast as I could without harming myself and sat down on the ground, leaning up against my one couch. I pulled out the picture in my pocket and unfolded it. Pressing it up against my chest, I started to cry silently.

Why do I tend to hurt the people that I care about most?

**I know that this was shorter than the last chapter, but come on, give a girl a break :D. I'll make sure to update all my other stories too. By the end of Christmas break of course. Make sure to R&R!**

**~Del3195**


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